Dear
Jim,
I
spent time with you tonight. Your brother and his wife were there, too. It was
good to see them; they look well.
I
am no longer angry with you for putting yourself in this position. My heart is
only filled with love and sadness. You did your best. That is all any of us
could have asked of you.
Your
body was hot from fever so I kept changing the washcloth on your forehead. I
gently let my fingers glide across the skin on your arm and hand as I sat next
to your bed. I didn't dare use a firmer touch as I was afraid I would cause you
physical harm if I did.
When
your brother and sister-in-law left us so that we could have some time
together, we had a good chat, even though I was the only one talking. I could
tell you were listening, the morphine notwithstanding. I told you how much I
love you. That you are my Superman. Yes, I cried. I couldn't help it. You always told me there was no shame in crying. If I felt like I needed to, then I should cry and without apology.
I
saw your body in a state I never imagined of you. Your pallor was grey and your
muscles without tone. Even so, I love you. You will always be the handsome man
that held me when we swam in the Gulf. The one that I could go to when I
couldn't make up my mind, couldn't untangle logic from emotion enough to make a
decision. You were so quick to decide the path you thought to be the right one
and then explain to me why. I'm laughing remembering the many times you would
say to me, "Fuck 'em." In other words, let it go. It's not worth
worrying about or struggling with. Let go and move on.
I put my hand on your chest and told you to be at peace. I told you I would be back tomorrow to see you again but I'm not sure
you will be around for another visit. I didn't say that to you, but that is
what I was thinking.
I
am glad we had our talk tonight. I am now at peace. I'll see you tomorrow.
Love,
Nancy
